Frowning, I respond, “What do you mean where am I? I’m headed to practice like my boss insists I do on a regular basis.”
“Is Cassidy with you?”
“No,” I retort, no small amount of sarcasm in my tone. “Apparently she now only goes to away games.”
He’s silent for a moment and then says, “That seems fair.”
I grunt my agreement, then listen to Conrad breathe because for some reason he’s not saying anything. “Conrad, did you need something?”
“I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but Cassidy’s mother got out and I want to make sure you’re aware of what she looks like in case she comes sniffing around.”
I’m genuinely surprised that Conrad is bringing up Cassidy’s mother so randomly. She is basically never spoken of, and the odd time I’ve mentioned it, my query has been either dismissed or blatantly ignored. To have Conrad bring her up now, and in the context in which he’s presenting her as a problem, is alarming at best.
“What do you mean, her mother gotout?” I snap, suddenly infuriated I didn’t know Cassidy’s mother is a criminal. “Is she a fuckin’ felon or somethin’?”
Conrad is quiet for a moment then he says, “Not exactly, but only on the technicality that she was unfit to stand trial due to being clinically insane.”
I frown, stopping dead in my tracks. “And how is it I’m just learning about Cassidy’s clinically insane mother?”
“It’s a long and tedious story,” Conrad responds, his voice tired. “And not my story to tell.”
“Cassidy knows?”
“Oh yeah. In some ways better than anyone.”
Dread pools in my gut. “What did she do?”
Conrad is silent, and for a moment I think he’s hung up. But then he says, “It’s a long story, Ren. But she hurt Cassidy and she got locked away for it for quite a long time.”
“Then why’d they set her loose?”
“According to the people in charge, she has been rehabilitated and is now fit to rejoin society.”
“And they didn’t even warn you?” I ask, my voice rising as my concern does. “Or warn Cassidy?”
“Believe me, I know,” he responds, his voice now angry. “And I will be looking into this oversight, but in the meantime, I need you to be on the lookout.”
“Are you going to tell her as well?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk to her over the phone. I will swing by on my way home later, if that’s alright.”
“Of course, Conrad,” I answer, feeling somewhat calmer. “You know you’re welcome anytime.”
He sighs, and I can visualize him sitting back in his chair, his hands running over his face. Then he says, “I’m sending an image of her to you now. Just keep an eye out for her, and if you see her call me.”
My phone notification pings and I sigh lowering the phone from my ear and touching the speaker button before switching to my messages.
Glancing at the screen I mutter, “What the—” then do a double take, making my screen brighter and zooming on on the woman’s face as I snarl, “Fuck.”
Panic zips through me. Tossing my bag at the man on the door, I whirl around, breaking into a run back toward my apartment. “When did you say she got out?”
“What?” he asks. “Why?”
“When, Conrad?” I shout, increasing my speed, hoping he says right now or an hour ago or even this morning, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Early yesterday,” and I immediately shift into a sprint as I state, “I think she’s already there, call the police.”
I end the call, immediately dialing Cassidy, cursing as it goes straight to voicemail. I try again, straight to voicemail.
I’m flying down the sidewalk now, passersby stepping out of the way without provocation as I barrel through. I burst through the doors to my building, startling the doorman as I yell, “Have you seen Cassidy?” without even breaking stride as I race toward the elevators. He shakes his head in response, and asks, “Is everything alright, Mr Rafferty?”
